Pressure has Fallen
by Queenflight
Summary: Short Cabin Pressure fic set after the last episode. Slightly OCC.


It was any pilot's worst nightmare. Anyone who attended flight school knew the six deadly Is, dangerous mindsets that pilots fall into that usually end in the something bad happening to either the pilot or the plane under his or her command. It was seven hours into an eight and a half hour flight, and Martin had managed to get through all six in fewer than five minuets. The ironic part, he thought, as warnings sounded and lights flashed around him, was that his insecurity was worrying that he had fallen under all six mindsets at once and how it would affect his ability to fly the plane. He erased the thought; much larger issues were affecting his skills then that.

Invulnerability: Technically, that was Captain Anthony's fault. He was the one that was certain there would never be any sort of terrorist threat on the plane. No once cares enough about Swiss Airlines to bother, he always said. But Martin blamed himself for not being more prepared anyway.

Impulsivity: Upon seeing a strange man in the captain's seat and the actual captain on the floor of the flight deck, obviously dead, Martin hadn't done anything the courses taught him. Instead he had gone back into the galley snatched a glass bottle from a confused stewardess, and smashed the man's head in. This resulted in the stranger falling with his face into the controls, causing the plane to jolt around hectically.

Indecision: At the sight of the man's bloodied head rolling back and forth on the controls, Martin had frozen. The warning lights flashed in this eyes, telling him the plane was falling much faster then it should have been, that cabin pressure was rising rapidly and that temperature was dropping almost as fast, and he didn't move. Nothing like this had ever happened to him before, or to anyone he knew. Not in his four years as a captain or two as a first officer. Why him? Why now? What was he even supposed to do?

"I know best": Pounding on the flight deck door and the whooshing sound as it opened snapped him back to reality. It was one of the stewards.

"Captain, what the hell is going on?" he demanded.

"Control! Everything is under control! Control, control, I have it!" Martin shouted, aware he was yelling gibberish.

"What happened to Captain Anthony? Sir, this is an emergency situation, the passengers are terrified," the steward told him.

"I know! I know what's going on! I have control! Tell them I have control!" Martin yelled at the man, who retreated back into the galley, the door whooshing closed behind. Martin knew the protocol. He knew the stewards would try to get everyone back into their seats, and then strap themselves in, confident that despite the situation, the first officer would use his training to get them safely to the ground. They didn't know said first officer was lying.

Impatience: Martin wasn't strong enough to move the man from the captain's chair so he could properly access the controls. It was possible to fly a plane from the first officer's chair, but it wasn't possible to control everything at once, especially not in major emergencies. That was why there were two pilots. He tried his best to control the plane; he managed to steady cabin pressure and temperature, but with the man blocking half the controls it was still jolting around, and falling faster then a Boeing 737-900 safely could. After his third attempt to slow the decent, Martin broke, slamming his hands down in frustration. He started flicking switches at random; ones that he knew didn't do anything helpful. It was still thirty minuets to the nearest airfield, and twenty minuets until the plane crashed. The ground proximity warning flashed, and Martin flicked at the switch to stop it. The plane jolted with and explosion, and started falling faster then ever. Martin turned with horror to the unconscious man beside him, noticing for the first time the belt he was wearing. The flashing lights and sirens told Martin that one of the wings was completely offline. The contents of the belt told him who was responsible. There was no way of knowing how the man had gotten on the plane, or how the explosives had gotten on the wing. He flicked on the cabin address.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, in a voice that wasn't his own. "As you know, we have experienced a hijacking on the flight. I am informing you know that there is no longer any possibility of a safe landing, although I shall try my best to keep the plane as intact as possible, hopefully giving many passengers and crew the opportunity to leave the aircraft upon landing. If there are any calls you wish to make, please do so immediately. This is first officer Martin Crieff of Swiss Airlines. Godspeed."


End file.
